


Like Shadows in the Night

by thecheekydragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Magic, Modern AU, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheekydragon/pseuds/thecheekydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is leading a double-life, which complicates his relationship with Arthur, who just so happens to be the leader of the elite PSA team responsible for keeping the citizens of Camelot City safe from magic users.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Shadows in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [merlinreversebb 2012](http://merlinreversebb.livejournal.com)
> 
> Fic inspired by this original art prompt by [greenclove](http://greenclove.livejournal.com)
> 
> [](http://pics.livejournal.com/thecheekydragon/pic/001wyzfa/)

He pushed his palm forward and uttered a few words, magically propelling the misty shadows to swirl around him. He pulled the hood up over his head to shroud his face then stepped into the black mist.

The magical shadows cloaked him well and he remained unseen until he was practically upon them. Catching sight of a movement, the agent serving flank on the extraction detail stopped short and peered into the darkness. Before the agent could shout out to the other members of his team, he hit him with a spell that knocked the agent off his feet. He did the same to the remaining agents before they could even reach for their zap-guns.

The group of children, startled and frightened, stared wide-eyed as he emerged from the shadows. In a low but urgent voice, he said, “Quick! You must hurry.” He moved in and pressed a note into the hand of the oldest child, a girl of about twelve who had bright green eyes and a determined set to her chin. “Directions to a safe haven,” he told her. “There you will meet a woman named Hunith and a man called Will who will take care of you until your parents return.”

The young girl looked at him kindly and he urged her to usher the other kids along. His spell wouldn’t last for too long and he wanted the children to be well away before the agents came to.

The littlest one of the group, a boy who looked about four years old, tugged on his over-sized hoodie. “Get along now,” he said sternly but it lacked any harshness. The boy grinned at him then ran after the group, the young girl already effectively leading her charges.

He couldn’t help watching them until they rounded the corner, though he knew he should not stay long at the scene. Once they vanished from his sight, he cloaked himself in shadows once more. He cast a glance at the fallen agents before heading in the direction of the city’s east end.

He told himself that the kids would be safe in his mother’s care. The agents had been sent to collect – officially known as “extract” – the children, six in total who were part of three families, children whose parents had been interned for suspected dark magic. PSA’s official stance was that the kids would be placed in foster care until their parents were either cleared or condemned. Parents who were cleared would be able to reclaim their children. The children of parents who were condemned, however, well – it was a bit more complicated. 

The problem was that, unofficially, children who were fostered often ended up lost in the system. Children of suspected parents, even those who were eventually cleared, became wards of Camelot City, raised in families who shunned sorcery and made attempts to assimilate their foster charges. These kids grew up without magic in their lives, nurtured to hate all magic and magic-folk. It wasn’t fair. So, with the help of his mother and his best friend, he did what he could when he could to prevent these children from falling victim to Uther Pendragon’s war on sorcery. It was risky, but it was what he felt he had to do.

When he reached the alleyway that led to the brownstone, he magicked away the misty shadows. He gave a quick, furtive look around then popped back his hood and reached into his pocket to extract his glasses. He pushed the spectacles onto his face and yanked open the door to the entrance of the brownstone residence.

He clamoured up the steps and was greeted with, “Merlin! Where have you been?” Gaius trained a raised, questioning eyebrow at him. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

“Hope it’s my favourite,” Merlin deflected cheekily, grinning at his older companion and mentor. He sank into a seat at the kitchen table, which had already been laid out. Aithusa wound herself around his leg, purring a friendly hello.

Gaius returned a kind smile and spooned out a generous portion of lasagne onto Merlin’s plate. As it happened, lasagne was one of Merlin’s favourites.

Merlin wolfed down his dinner then made tea for Gaius while he set about washing and drying the dishes. It was their routine, as was Gaius’ habit of listening to the Security Scanner while he sipped his after-dinner tea.

Merlin washed and dried quickly, hoping to escape to his room before any news reached Gaius’ discerning ears. But tonight was not that night.

“Report just came through about four agents on an extraction detail being downed by a suspected dark sorcerer,” Gaius said from his spot at the kitchen table. “I suppose that was you?”

Merlin continued to hastily dry dishes, reaching and putting them quickly away in cupboards, while Aithusa looped happily about his feet. “Can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” he returned.

“Mph,” came Gaius’ reply.

Merlin knew the old man would not harp on it but he felt guilty all the same. He was not a dark sorcerer. Gaius knew that. He wasn’t even a _suspected_ sorcerer and that was very much owing to Gaius who protected him fiercely. Merlin knew Gaius was concerned about his vigilante antics, especially given the nature of their current positions. It would not bode well for either of them if Merlin was exposed. 

Merlin emptied the sink and dried his hands on the dish towel. He drew up behind Gaius’ chair and laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Gaius,” he said softly. “I’ve been very careful.”

Gaius took a sip of his tea then said, “You must continue to be so, my boy. If Uther Pendragon should find out...”

“I couldn’t let those kids be taken, Gaius,” Merlin implored further. “You know what happens to most of them.”

Gaius turned to face him. “I do know, Merlin. But I’m more concerned about what could happen to _you_ , if you’re not careful.”

Merlin gave the old man a smile and patted his shoulder. Then he scooped up the white ball of fluff at his feet and headed up to his room, leaving Gaius to enjoy the remainder of his tea.

**

Arthur opened the folder his father had placed on his desk that morning. It contained a security report brief and a memo. The brief outlined the latest activities of “The Shadow Sorcerer”, as the news people had taken to calling him. As Arthur already knew, a four-man security team tasked to ‘extract’ a group of children had been attacked by the suspected dark sorcerer whose signature was to magically cloak himself in misty shadows.

The memo, on PSA stationary, written in red ink and underlined in his father’s bold script, read simply: Top Priority.

Arthur crumpled the memo and slipped the report back into the folder. His father might consider this Shadow Sorcerer a top priority but Arthur thought otherwise. There were very real dark sorcerers out there who warranted his attention. Dark sorcerers like Sigan who was currently gathering followers with the intent to wreck havoc on the citizens of Camelot City.

By comparison, as far as Arthur was concerned, this Shadow Sorcerer was nothing more than a vigilante, a sorcerer who had considerable powers no doubt, but was hardly a threat. He occasionally downed some agents who were tasked to extract children of suspected dark sorcerers. He never killed the agents or hurt them in any way. Besides, Arthur knew what happened to kids who were extracted by PSA agents. They were put into the care of foster parents who brainwashed them into hating magic and magic-doers. His father could justify it all he wanted, but it didn’t make it right.

It was one of the things Uther Pendragon had initiated that Arthur did not agree with. There were other things too. Like Morgana. But this was not a thought Arthur wanted to entertain right now. He was due to give a security briefing to his team in ten minutes.

At nine o’clock sharp, his team assembled in the briefing room where Arthur was waiting. Leon, Gwaine, Percival and Elyan – his ‘knights’ – were all dressed alike in black cargo pants and long or short-sleeved black chest-hugging shirts. One member of his team, though, was late.

Where the hell was...?

Right on cue with his thought, the final member of the team strolled in, their tech guru, the one they affectionately called the “Wiz Kid” for not only his technological savvy but for his vast knowledge of all things magical – Merlin Emrys.

Merlin was shoving a jelly donut into his mouth with one hand and dusting the powder from his t-shirt with the other. Unlike the rest of the team, Merlin’s usual working attire was a t-shirt over jeans, said t-shirt typically spouting some geek-witticism. Today’s gem: _Have you tried turning it off and on?_

“Found your way out of the dungeon, did you?” Arthur remarked dryly.

Merlin shrugged then proceeded to lick his fingers clean of the powdered sugar and sticky raspberry jam. Arthur found this highly distracting. Merlin took up a seat next to Gwaine who welcomed him by ruffling up his hair while Percival, Leon and Elyan laughed heartedly.

Merlin glared at Gwaine but there was no heat behind it and ran a hand through his own hair, presumably to ‘fix’ it right again. Though it would be a wonder if anyone could tell since Merlin’s hair was usually styled – if one could call it that – every which way. Arthur was quite sure that if he looked, he’d find baby hamsters nestling in there.

“Gentlemen, if you’re ready to begin...”

His knights all became attentive and took notice. Merlin pushed the bridge of his black-rimmed glasses up his nose and his face sobered, as though he were paying close attention. Arthur knew better. Merlin may have looked like a dishevelled candidate for ADD, but he was brilliant – a genius really who could process information coming at him from all different directions at an impressive speed.

Arthur outlined the latest security threats involving magic-users who had been linked to Sigan. The team was tasked to investigate the incidents involving sorcerers acting in Sigan’s name, with the overall goal of discovering Sigan’s secret base so that PSA could mount an offensive strike. It was rumoured that Sigan had amassed a sizeable following and was hatching some dark, evil plan which threatened the safety of Camelot’s citizens, both magic and non-magic folk alike, and it was the job of PSA to quash this threat. In fact, this was Arthur’s primary mission. And though his father considered all sorcerers to be a threat to some degree, Arthur held the belief that it was dark sorcerers like Sigan who used magic to instil fear and sought power for power’s sake to be the most looming threat. Most other magic-users were ordinary folk who wanted to live in harmony, not take over the world. There was a clear difference.

Merlin listened intently as Arthur briefed the team on the latest incidents linked to Sigan’s followers, happy to hear that his own antics the night before had not made the list. He tapped out random notes on his computer pad as Arthur talked, not because he needed them, but because it afforded him the opportunity to surreptitiously peek at Arthur from underneath his eyelashes and rim of his glasses without raising too much suspicion. And even if Gwaine snuck a glance at his pad, Merlin was reasonably certain the man wouldn’t guess Merlin wasn’t making any actual or real notes.

Merlin had always been impressed with Arthur’s confident and commanding leadership style. Arthur Pendragon was Chief of Security at Pendragon Security Agency (PSA), the tactical security company owned by Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon. Arthur was also Team Leader of the PSA elite security team known as the Camelot Knights. And while Arthur had inherited his father’s confidence, sense of duty, and ability to command, he had thankfully not inherited Uther Pendragon’s bigotry, intolerance or coldness of heart. Merlin put a lot of faith in Arthur to make Camelot City a better place for both magic and non-magic folk.

He looked around the briefing room table at the members of Arthur’s team. The Camelot Knights consisted of seven – well, six now – team members who all possessed unique skills and attributes. As their leader, Arthur (referred to variously as “Sire”, “King”, “Regal One”) was a masterful strategist and warrior, whose weapons speciality was the ability to wield a nasty dagger. In fact, at any given time, you could count on Arthur to have five or six daggers on his person and to be able to use them quickly and effectively. But his greatest strengths, Merlin thought, were his merciful attitude and tendency to do what was just and right. Gwaine (nickname: G-Man) was skilled at hand-to-hand combat and could talk his way out of many a situation, especially those involving suspect circumstances. Percival (or Gunner, as Arthur liked to call him) was a giant of a man whose strength was literally his strength. He could easily overpower another man and was known to aggravate sorcerers by not being one to go down quietly. Leon’s skill with the zap-gun was unparalleled in all of Camelot. He was quick and accurate and Merlin had seen him use the weapon with great skill against sorcerers who thought their magic could defeat him. Leon was the only team member who had been unofficially ‘knighted’ and was often addressed as ‘Sir Leon’ by the team. Elyan (sometimes just “E”) was the most resourceful member of their team. Although he was no novice in using a zap-gun or dagger, Elyan’s particular skill was in assessing a situation and acting quickly and appropriately. 

Merlin’s assets to the team consisted of his knowledge of magic and the ability to create and use technology that could counter-act the powers of sorcery. Ironically, Merlin had been hired by Uther Pendragon himself on the recommendation of his oldest friend, Gaius Wilson, and was assigned to Arthur’s elite team as the sorcery expert and tech guru. As the story went, Merlin had served as an apprentice under Gaius, who had versed him thoroughly on sorcery and magic and had taught him the technological tricks of counter-acting sorcery. Gaius had praised Merlin’s knowledge and skill to Uther Pendragon, who had been looking to hire someone with exactly this skill-set to assist Arthur’s elite security team. That had been four years ago and, although Arthur had been at first reluctant to take Merlin on, he seemed to have come to acknowledge and respect Merlin’s skills and considered him an asset to his team.

The intel that Arthur had regarding the activities of Sigan’s followers and the potential location of the sorcerer’s secret base meshed mostly with what Merlin had been able to find out. Freya had gotten close to a couple of witches who were in the lowest echelons of Sigan’s coven and had been passing Merlin information for the last couple of weeks. 

“Investigation will be carried out in two man teams,” Arthur was saying. “G-Man and Sir Leon. Gunner and E,” he instructed. “The Wiz Kid is with me.”

Merlin wasn’t surprised when he heard the team match-ups. He had been hoping to be paired with Gwaine but he knew Arthur had his reasons for keeping Merlin with him. Most probably, it was because Merlin lacked experience in the field and Arthur wanted to ensure he didn’t screw up.

If Merlin was disappointed about being teamed up with Arthur, he didn’t show it. It was true that Arthur had rarely deployed Merlin in the field in the four years that he had been part of the team. Merlin was their inside guy, their tech support and sorcery expert. His job entailed finding and providing the team with options and this was something Merlin could do quite comfortably from “The Dungeon” with his jelly donuts and ample supply of coffee. But with Lancelot now gone... Arthur just wasn’t ready to take on a new team member yet. Merlin was skilled and brilliant and would do well in the field under his supervision. He’d have to talk to him, of course, about his choice of working attire, but that was a minor detail.

Merlin stayed behind as the rest of the team filed out. Arthur came around the table and leaned on the edge a mere two feet next to Merlin’s computer pad.

“Look,” he said, “I know you don’t usually go out in the field...”

“It’s fine,” Merlin replied, interrupting him. He couldn’t quite bring himself to vocalize that he knew the team was short a man and that he was expected to fill in until Arthur appointed a new team member to replace Lancelot. 

Arthur nodded in his commanding but comforting way. “Don’t suppose I could get you to swap the t-shirt and jeans for a black shirt and cargo pants?” he coaxed.

Despite himself, Merlin grinned. “Yeah. Not likely,” he replied and Arthur threw his head back and laughed. 

**

In the end, Merlin did compromise and donned one of the company jackets that had the PSA logo on back. The jacket was made to fit a much larger man and it hung loosely on Merlin’s lean frame but Arthur seemed pleased that Merlin was at least trying to accommodate his whim and look part of the team.

“Did he seem suspicious to you?” Arthur asked as they exited the bookstore, having just conducted their second investigation.

“How so?” 

“I don’t know,” Arthur mused. “Like he was hiding something.”

Merlin shrugged. It was quite possible the man was hiding something, as most people were ought to do, but he doubted it was anything of a suspicious nature. Geoffrey Monmouth was an eccentric writer and bookstore owner – he was probably trying to keep secret the plot for his latest book.

“Any signs of magic?” Arthur inquired further.

Merlin was often asked if he detected any signs of magic based on his vast knowledge of sorcery. Of course, Merlin didn’t have to rely on this knowledge as he was able to ‘feel’ magic and he had not felt any when they had interviewed Mr. Monmouth. He did sense that the man was agitated but he chalked that up to the fact that Arthur had a tendency to bring that out in others. “No,” he told him.

**

“And you say she used magic?” Arthur prodded the woman.

The woman, Mrs. Collins, nodded. “She did. Threatened my babies with it.” She shook her head. “I never would have believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it myself. I’ve known Freya Lake since she was a little girl.”

Merlin’s insides churned hotly but he willed himself to remain calm. Arthur thanked the woman for her time and then steered Merlin toward the door.

“She was lying,” Merlin said insistently once they were outside.

Arthur stopped and gave Merlin a sardonic look. “What? The reclusive bookstore guy can’t be suspicious but this devoted mother of four must be _lying_?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Merlin rationalized, “but I know she was lying.”

He watched Arthur’s brows raise then knit together. “How do you know? Or did you forget to tell me you developed the technology to detect lies with that thing?” He gestured toward the computer pad tucked against Merlin’s side.

Merlin considered his options and came up empty. How could he tell Arthur he knew the woman was lying because it was impossible that Freya could have been involved in anything related to Sigan. And certainly not anything that involved threatening young children. That was just preposterous.

With as much conviction as he could possibly convey, Merlin simply settled on, “I just know.”

Arthur looked at him for a long beat, studying his face, seemingly searching for something, then said finally, “I’m sorry, Merlin. But I need more to go on than that. This woman provided a lead we have to follow up on. We’re going to have to bring this Freya Lake in for questioning.” Arthur started walking, indicating the matter was closed.

He knew Merlin was disappointed that Arthur had not taken his assessment of the woman’s truthfulness on faith. It was times like these that Arthur wished Lancelot was still with them. Lancelot had never questioned Arthur’s decisions or process. It wasn’t that Arthur didn’t trust Merlin’s convictions – some might actually accuse him of putting too much faith in the Wiz Kid sometimes – but Arthur was often at a loss to understand them. He was by nature rational and logical, ruled by mind not heart; whereas Merlin – despite his technological savvy and logical scientific mind – was very much an emotive thinker and doer. Lancelot had always understood Merlin best and had been able to relate to him like none of the team ever could. Arthur had envied that. And now, with Lancelot gone, Arthur didn’t know how he could possibly achieve the kind of closeness with Merlin he would like to have.

Merlin tried not to feel or look disappointed that Arthur could not just trust him on faith alone, knowing fully that Arthur would have trusted Lancelot’s instincts, no questions asked. He rationalized that it was completely understandable, but it still hurt. As did the brief memory – _any memory_ – of Lancelot.

Lancelot, who had often been referred to as Arthur’s “First Knight” being designated the Second in Command, had also been Merlin’s good friend. When Merlin had been assigned to Arthur’s team, Lancelot had been the first to welcome him and they had quickly become friends. Not too long after Merlin had joined the team, Lancelot had accidentally discovered Merlin had magic. Merlin had expected him to go to Arthur and expose him, but Lancelot had not, telling him kindly, “We all have our secrets, Merlin.” Merlin had appreciated Lancelot’s understanding and discretion. It had been comforting to have someone in the know on his side, a true friend he could share with and confide in.

But then two months ago, Lancelot had been struck down by a sorcerer (Sigan was suspected) while on a mission that had somehow gone awry. He had become separated from the rest of team – from Arthur – and had been found lifeless, the victim of an act of sorcery. 

The entire team had been devastated over Lancelot’s death, but Arthur and Merlin were especially hard hit. Arthur, of course, blamed himself for Lancelot’s death although the fault had not been his. For Merlin, heavy guilt mixed with grief over the loss of his friend. Having magic, he could have saved Lancelot, and no matter how many times Gaius told him he could not have changed Lance’s fate, Merlin would insist he could have done _something_ , something that would have prevented his friend’s death. Merlin would never forgive himself for that.

They finished the remaining interviews with little discussion and then made their way back to PSA headquarters to meet up with the rest of the team for debriefs. And although Arthur made the passing comment “Good job today” to him as they collectively filed out after the debriefs, Merlin couldn’t help but wonder if Arthur’s words were intended to be encouraging or if they were just something Arthur felt he had to say.

**

Merlin came around the lake side of Freya’s cottage, hoping to beat Arthur and Leon by a few minutes at least. He had his hood up and ear piece turned on in case he was needed and had to respond. It was going to be tricky and very risky, but he had to warn Freya. But before he was able to reach the outer port deck, he was intercepted by the PSA duo, who had been quicker at arriving than Merlin had anticipated. 

He swirled the shadows around him, aiming to cloak before Leon could effectively target him with the zap-gun. But Leon was quick and fired off a zap in the direction of the shadows. Merlin immediately cast a deflection spell and achieved partial success. The zap hit him in the side but he was able to deflect the full brunt of its force with his magic. Not giving Leon a chance to fire off another shot, Merlin dissolved into the misty shadows and disappeared.

“What the hell just happened?” Arthur wanted to know.

“I think I hit something,” Leon replied.

Arthur frowned and peered into the shadows. He thought had had seen something, a figure, for a brief moment in the shadows. Leon must have seen it too, and had fired. But if Leon had hit something – _someone_ – where was he now? And how could they defend themselves against something they couldn’t see?

He tapped his ear piece. “Merlin,” he said. “What do you know about the magical use of shadows?” He waited a second then tapped the device again. “Merlin?”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s got jelly donut jam stuck in his ear piece?”

Arthur released a long-suffering sigh then continued up the path to the cottage. He knocked loudly on the door.

“Ms. Lake?” he asked when a pretty brunette with soft brown eyes opened the door. “Arthur Pendragon from PSA,” he announced. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us for questioning.”

**

“What were you thinking?” Gaius said as he helped Merlin remove the hoodie and t-shirt to get a look at the damage caused by the zap blast. Aithusa mewled loudly as though she understood something was wrong with Merlin.

“Hush now,” he said to her then winced at the extra jolt of pain he felt as Gaius pushed on his ribs where the skin was mottled. 

“I can try to heal it the best I can,” the old man said, “but it’s going to smart for a few days. You’re lucky you were able to deflect the brunt of it.”

Merlin tried not to think how lucky he was. Yes, he had been able to deflect the full force of Leon’s zap shot. But he hadn’t been able to warn Freya and he had almost been exposed in front of Arthur.

Of course, Arthur would have tried to communicate with him. It was a sound tactical decision, given the situation, to gather intel from the “sorcery expert” about the suspected use of sorcery. And, of course, Merlin, having just been zapped, couldn’t have answered him. It had taken all of his strength and willpower to make it back to the brownstone under shadow cover. Who knew the pain of a half-force zap would be this excruciating? Really, it was barbaric – zap first and ask questions later.

And what kind of excuse could Merlin give for not responding to Arthur? He supposed he’d have to suck it up and tell him he got jam stuck in his ear piece or something equally ridiculous. Maybe Arthur would buy that.

Merlin put his arm over his face as Gaius tended to the wound and Aithusa snuggled against his good side. Gaius was a good healer and Merlin trusted his skill. But regardless, he’d have to be very careful the next couple of days. If he gave any indication that he was hurt, it would raise suspicions. He had promised Gaius that he would not put himself at risk of exposure and he meant to keep that promise.

In the end, Merlin took the easiest way out and claimed sickness. He had suddenly taken ill and that was why he hadn’t responded to Arthur and was the reason he opted not to go into work. Merlin had never taken a sick day in the four years he’d been with PSA so he figured he had a couple owing to him.

What he hadn’t counted on, though, was for Arthur to take it upon himself to come by the brownstone to check up on his health.

As soon as he heard Arthur’s voice in the hallway greeting Gaius, Merlin pulled the bed covers up to ensure the zap wound was well hidden (being careful not to dislodge Aithusa who was curled up along his leg) and grabbed his computer pad from the bed stand. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to look minimally busy; he was purportedly sick not at death’s door.

Gaius knocked on his door before showing Arthur in, for which Merlin was grateful. He already felt awkward enough as it was.

But when he turned his attention to his visitor, Merlin found Arthur staring at him with a quizzical expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” Merlin asked, guarded.

“I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you without your glasses,” Arthur commented.

“Oh,” said Merlin awkwardly. Instinctively, he reached for his glasses only to discover that he must have left them in the kitchen. 

Arthur peered at him intently and Merlin suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“And here I thought you couldn’t see two inches past your nose without them,” Arthur quipped.

“More like six,” Merlin countered, waving his hand in the space between his pad and his nose.

The truth was, Merlin never wore his glasses at home. He didn’t need to. His vision was perfect. The glasses were merely a disguise suggested by Gaius who had claimed all the best heroes and nerds wore glasses. Of course, he had said this in complete jest but Merlin had thought it was a brilliant idea and had donned a pair (with clear lenses he desperately hoped no one ever checked, though there was that one time Gwaine had snatched his glasses from his face with the intent to try them on, inducing a near-panic attack, but Lancelot had thankfully snatched them back before any damage was done) before being interviewed by Uther Pendragon. Somehow, the glasses had stuck.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t on your death bed,” Arthur remarked. “I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day since you started working for PSA.”

“Just a bout of sickness, is all,” Merlin replied, giving Arthur a little smile for reassurance.

God, thought Arthur, Merlin was a sight. His hair had lost complete control and was sticking up in ways Arthur didn’t think were possible. He could only see the top part of Merlin’s t-shirt, the words “ _If you were a computer, I’d..._ ” visible, but having been exposed to most of Merlin’s witty t-shirt slogans, he knew it ended with “ _RAM you_.” Without the reflective glare of the lenses, he could see that Merlin’s eyes were a clear, bright blue, the kind of eyes one could easily fall into. His exquisite cheekbones were flushed, probably due to the illness, but the flush gave Merlin’s face a glow that was definitely very appealing.

Now, if Arthur was one to admit such a thing, he might say he kind of – sort of - had a Percival-sized crush on his tech guru. Which was absolutely ridiculous because Arthur did not do crushes and, even if he did, it would not be directed at Merlin of all people. Except, damn it, it kind of was, and there lay the problem. 

Arthur moved forward and rubbed the belly of the fluffy white feline that was stretched out on the bed alongside Merlin’s leg, any excuse to get just a wee bit closer to Merlin. Aithusa purred happily and Arthur found himself wishing he could make Merlin purr like that. He shrugged the thought off quickly, straightened, then said in a manner that indicated he was going to take leave, “Well, hope you’re feeling better soon.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said, watching Arthur morph into his more professional mode. He often wondered exactly what Arthur was thinking when he slipped into that slightly more personal mode, such as when he had reached out to pet Aithusa (who had purred for him, the traitor!). It was those times that Merlin found Arthur incredibly difficult to read.

After Arthur, he was visited by Gwaine and Percival who spent most of their visit ruffling his hair and cooing awkwardly at Aithusa. Later came Leon and Elyan who expressed appropriate sympathy for his bout of sickness and expressed hope for his quick recovery. Even Gwen (who worked in Communications at PSA) stopped by, bringing hot soup and homemade cookies for him, telling Merlin that Arthur had let slip he was under the weather and would probably appreciate some company.

And though Merlin appreciated the team and Gwen taking the time to visit and wish him well, at the end of the day he decided he had had all the attention he could stand. And despite the continued soreness in his side, Merlin returned to work the next day.

**

Arthur walked to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door to “The Dungeon” (Gwaine had actually commissioned someone to paint the outside of the door to look like a genuine medieval castle dungeon) where he knew he’d find Merlin.

Amidst the utter chaos – well, it looked that way to Arthur – of books, equipment, and technological doo-dads, his tech guru-cum-sorcery expert was hunched over a desk, a jelly donut (no surprise) on its way to those plush, pink lips (probably Merlin’s fifth or sixth of the day if the half-empty box was any indication).

“You _do_ realize that jelly donuts are not an actual food group,” he said by way of announcing himself.

Merlin spun around in his chair then said around a mouthful of cake and jam, “Says _you_.”

He grinned and Arthur suddenly had the insane urge to lick the residual powdered sugar from Merlin’s lips. To distract himself from that disturbing but delicious thought, he glanced at Merlin’s t-shirt of the day: _Talk nerdy to me._ Arthur sighed inwardly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Merlin shrugged. “Better.” He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know it was your job to check up on me.”

It was Arthur’s turn to shrug. “Got to make sure all members of my team are healthy.” His eyes travelled to the half-empty box of donuts. “An addiction to jam-filled donuts notwithstanding.” Merlin grinned again and Arthur cleared his throat. “I also came to give you an update on our questioning of Freya Lake,” he said, getting to the point. He didn’t know why he had felt he should update Merlin on a suspect they were questioning – it wasn’t usual practice – but for some reason he felt Merlin deserved to know.

Merlin had finished his donut and now slunk back into the swivel chair. His eyes left Arthur for the floor. “And?” he prodded softly.

Arthur puffed out a sigh. “Basically, there’s no concrete evidence that she _did_ use magic to threaten the Collins kids--” He saw Merlin glance up at him hopefully. “But there’s no concrete evidence that she _didn’t_ , either.”

Merlin’s face had not changed expressions but Arthur thought he detected some trepidation on it nevertheless. “So you’ll let her go, right?” he asked and Arthur was certain Merlin was trying to inflect his tone to be as casual-sounding as possible.

“Not yet,” Arthur told him and inwardly winced when he thought Merlin looked disappointed in him. “We think she has information about Sigan that might be useful.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know anything,” Merlin argued, trying to sound logical and reasonable. He knew Arthur responded well to that. The fact of the matter was that if Freya _did_ know anything about Sigan, she would have already told Merlin and Merlin would have already somehow gotten that intel onto the team’s radar.

“Maybe,” Arthur agreed. “Or maybe she doesn’t know she knows something,” he added.

Merlin nodded. That was conceivable, he reconciled to himself.

Arthur shoved his hands into the pockets of his black cargos then turned toward the door. As he pulled the door open to exit, he said quietly over his shoulder, “She’s being held in Room 405. Just in case you want to see that she’s okay.” Then he left.

Merlin could do nothing but gape at the door that had closed behind Arthur for the next five minutes.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/thecheekydragon/pic/001wztg3/)

**

When Merlin returned to his room, he saw his ear piece flashing on the desk, Aithusa batting at it playfully. He gently scooped the cat away, collected the device and slipped it over his ear.

“Where have you been?” Arthur’s voice demanded when he tapped to receive the communication.

“Can’t a guy take a pee for a minute?” Merlin groused good-naturedly.

“And you can’t pee with your ear piece on?” Arthur quipped back.

“Not if I don’t want you potentially listening in,” Merlin returned, smirking though Arthur couldn’t see that.

He heard Arthur sigh then, “You know the castle ruins at the end of old Camelot Road?”

“Yeah.”

“I need you to meet me here – _five minutes ago_.”

**

Merlin borrowed Gaius’ old car not wanting to try Arthur’s patience by riding out to the castle ruins on his well-used but trusty bicycle. On the way, Arthur filled him in on what had led him to the castle ruins on the west end of the city.

“Something Freya Lake said made me wonder,” Arthur informed him. “I found a functioning entrance in the southwest wing, covered in ivy, but it looks like it was recently used.”

“And what made you think you should go there by yourself?” Merlin scolded, rolling his eyes upward. Arthur was a fanatic about two-man teams for safety and yet here he was on a risky adventure solo.

“I’m not going to _be_ by myself, Merlin,” Arthur said matter-of-factly and perhaps a little smugly. “I’m going to have _you_ with me.” There was a moment’s silence then Arthur said, “I think there’s been an enchantment placed on the door to keep nosey agents out. I need you to counter the spell. How far away are you?”

“I’m just pulling up the road now,” Merlin told him, as he eased the car down the old road toward the southwest wing of the castle ruins. As he got closer and adjusted his vision to the scant illumination of the moonlight, he shut off the headlamps.

“Make sure you turn off the headlamps,” Arthur instructed into the ear piece. 

Merlin rolled his eyes. He directed the car to the small grove lining the south end of the ruins where he saw Arthur’s black vehicle already tucked away. 

“And hide the car in the grove,” Arthur instructed further. Merlin rolled his eyes again.

He made his way in the darkness to the southwest wing and Arthur.

“There’s an enchantment, right? A spell?” Arthur said after he had Merlin do a cursory inspection of the entrance.

Merlin nodded. He loved the way Arthur’s eyes lit up when he thought he was able to detect magic. 

“Can you break it?” Arthur asked.

“’Course,” Merlin said with cheeky confidence. Most of the time, Merlin could use the technology programmed into his computer pad to break various spells and enchantments. But what Arthur didn’t know was that, if not under direct scrutiny, Merlin could and often did more easily use his own magic to counter-act other magic. It was usually as simple as the flick of a hand, a flash of his eyes, or a few spoken words.

Merlin tapped out some commands on his pad. “Uh, keep a lookout, would you?” he told Arthur.

Arthur looked at him quizzically for a moment before going round the building’s entrance purportedly to ‘keep a lookout’.

Once Arthur was out of sight, Merlin concentrated on the door and whispered the words, “ _Aliese duru ryne_.” The heavy wooden door eased open.

“Got it,” he called out to Arthur.

Arthur emerged from around the corner. “I hardly needed to lookout for the amount of time _that_ took,” he huffed, moving past Merlin to take the lead. For the fourth time in less than fifteen minutes, Merlin rolled his eyes.

It was dark and dank inside the tunnelled entrance. Arthur produced a small flashlight from some pocket on his cargo pants and flicked on the lamp. Merlin silently lamented that it was times like these when he wished he could ‘wow’ Arthur by uttering a simple illumination spell to light their path.

They followed crumbling corridors and passageways, training both their eyes and ears to their surroundings. When they saw faint lights flickering ahead and below, hearing accompanying murmurs, Arthur switched off the flashlight and grabbed the sleeve of Merlin’s hoodie, guiding him forward.

There was a break in the stone wall that allowed them to see into the chamber a level below. Arthur pulled Merlin down to crouch beside him, huddled close together in order to spy through the crumbled wall.

The chamber was lit up by a fair number of candles and oil lamps providing enough light to illuminate the area of activity. Merlin counted about a dozen or so people gathered – all women it looked like, very likely a witches’ coven – forming a rough circle. In the centre were three women, all wearing cloaks of a dark colour. Two of the women, one golden and one auburn haired, were standing. Before them, kneeling, was a third woman, the hood of her cloak up around her head.

“What are they doing?” Arthur whispered, so close to Merlin’s ear that his breath caused a shiver to trace down his spine.

“It’s some kind of induction or bonding ritual, I think,” Merlin whispered back. He had never seen such a ritual before but he had read about such things in Gaius’ books.

Merlin and Arthur watched as the ritual played out and the kneeling witch finally stood, pushing the hood back, revealing long raven hair framing pale ivory skin.

“It’s...” Merlin started.

“I know who it is, Merlin,” Arthur whispered fiercely, shuffling back.

Arthur had seen all that he wanted to see. “Let’s go,” he said shortly, grabbing Merlin’s sleeve and hauling him up. He started making their way back, using the mini flashlight to guide them, tugging Merlin along by the sleeve of his hoodie like an obstinate puppy on a lead. 

When they emerged out of the ruins into the night air, Arthur finally let go of Merlin’s sleeve.

Merlin took a deep breath, glancing at him, his eyes guarded. He began cautiously, “What do you think it means that Morgana was--”

“How the hell should I know, Merlin?” Arthur barked, feeling surlier by the minute. “ _You’re_ the sorcery expert!” he added accusingly, though what fault Merlin was responsible for Arthur couldn’t imagine. 

Merlin’s face grew dark in the moonlight and Arthur immediately regretted his accusatory tone. “Yeah, well – sorry,” Merlin huffed, his lips pressing together tightly. “I don’t know!” He gave Arthur a pointed look then stomped off toward the grove, refusing to engage in further conversation.

Arthur watched as Gaius’ old car emerged from the woods and tore off down the road. He waited until he could no longer see the car’s taillights before tapping his ear piece.

“What,” came the miffed reply.

“Just--” he said then decided on, “Drive carefully”, hoping that would suffice as an apology, considering it was the best he felt he could give at that moment.

**

Arthur sat at his desk, a thousand different and unpleasant thoughts running through his head. He knew he would have to tell his father about Morgana but the longer he could postpone the inevitable, the better. Uther Pendragon would not take kindly to hearing that his banished daughter had recently decided to stick the proverbial knife in his back by taking up with the sorcerer Sigan and his followers.

Morgana was Arthur’s sister – well, half-sister, but it was all the same to him, really. And up until about two and half years ago, Morgana had been very much a part of PSA and Arthur’s life. Then Morgana discovered she had magic.

Uther, the head of a security company that essentially disdained magic and magic-users, had not taken Morgana’s discovery well. To make matters worse, Morgana – ever strong-willed and defiant – had refused to heed her father’s advice to push away those yearnings and, instead, had actively sought to nurture her new-found magical abilities. Of course, their father had been outraged. A battle of two very strong wills commenced and subsequently ended with Uther Pendragon pushing Morgana out of his life and, by extension, Arthur’s. Morgana had left, her last words to Uther telling him to “go to hell!”. To Arthur, there had been nothing – no tirade, no excuses, no plea for support, no goodbye.

What bothered Arthur the most was that Morgana hadn’t even trusted him enough to make an effort to continue their sibling relationship. Arthur was not his father. He would have understood Morgana’s need to explore her magic and would have offered his support. But Morgana had never even allowed him the chance. She had simply left him, never once looking back. And it had hurt. It still hurt.

He was writing the report that would be the basis of his briefing to his father when Merlin, forgoing knocking as was his habit, blew in, his computer pad in one hand and a large open book in the other. Arthur barely had time to register that Merlin’s hair was a whirlwind of a mess, as though hamsters had been running through it during his sleep, and that there was a fair amount of residual powdered sugar on his bow lips, before Merlin plunked the heavy book on his desk and animatedly pointed to something on a page.

“I’ve been reading Gaius’ books,” he said as preamble.

“Don’t you ever knock, Merlin?” Arthur interjected, noting with fond amusement Merlin’s t-shirt witticism of the day: _coffee.exe missing insert cup and press any key_. Something told Arthur that Merlin had already exceeded his coffee and jelly donut allowance for the day.

Merlin rolled his eyes at him. “Anyway,” he continued, tapping his long finger on the open book to direct Arthur’s focus. “It seems an induction or bonding ritual can take place informally without any specific allegiances claimed. We both saw symbols representing Sigan all around that chamber. But according to some of these old readings,” He tapped the open book again, “the fact that Sigan wasn’t actually _present_ might indicate that the ritual was independent, involving just those witches we saw gathered.”

“So, what are you saying, Merlin? That Morgana _hasn’t_ pledged her allegiance nor sold her soul to Sigan?” Arthur knew he sounded cynical but it was what it was.

Merlin shrugged. “What I’m saying is that Sigan’s symbols there may have no relevance,” he said. “All we saw was a bonding ritual being performed with what looked like three key players and a handful of witnesses. Sigan’s symbols were all around. But no Sigan.”

Arthur nodded. He trusted Merlin’s possible interpretation even if it was likely his tech guru was on a coffee and sugar overload. Despite Arthur’s gruff comments the night before, Merlin was the sorcery expert and Arthur generally believed Merlin knew what he was talking about. 

“Oh, and the two witches who performed the induction?” Merlin remarked. “Not one hundred percent certain, but the word out there is _Morgause_ and _Nimueh_.” 

“Names we’ve heard before,” Arthur commented. Even if he didn’t have to tell his father that Morgana had joined Sigan’s following, he would still have to mention her apparent recent bonding with the two sorceresses. 

“Talked to your father yet?” Merlin asked, his tone gentle. Arthur had to marvel that, despite his own behaviour the night before which had been completely uncalled for, Merlin remained kind and understanding. In fact, Merlin was always kind and understanding, despite Arthur’s many and myriad faults. Arthur figured this was probably the reason his crush on his tech guru was Percival-sized. Well, he admitted, _that_ , and Merlin’s hamster hair, bow lips, fantastic cheekbones, silly t-shirt sayings and jelly donut addiction.

Arthur shook his head. “Not looking forward to that conversation,” he told Merlin.

“Can’t blame you,” Merlin replied. He swept the book from the desk and shoved it in the crook of his armpit, moving toward the door. “If you need backup,” Merlin seemed to offer as he exited through the door, “call Gwaine.”

Arthur tipped his head back and laughed.

**

Merlin was worried about Arthur. It could not be easy for him to have stumbled upon Morgana again after over two years, especially under these circumstances. Though Arthur had never mentioned it, Merlin was sure he was still hurting from Morgana leaving after coming to rows with their father over her insistence on cultivating her magical abilities. From what Merlin understood, Morgana had left without a word to Arthur, had severed their relationship, preferring to be estranged from both of the Pendragon men.

And while Merlin was happy to report that there was strong doubt that Morgana was in the process of becoming a devoted follower of the dark sorcerer Sigan, he was not about to breathe a sigh of relief. Nimueh and Morgause were known amongst the community of magic users to be formidable sorceresses. That Morgana seemed to be taking up with them was still a cause for concern. 

Merlin went back to “The Dungeon” to organize the mounting rubble that was overtaking his space. After finishing that daunting task (and the last two jelly donuts), he figured he owed himself to cut out a half hour early. His plan was to stop by Freya’s for a visit before heading home to take a quick nap with Aithusa curled beside him then to help Gaius with dinner. 

Besides, it was probably a good idea to be out of the building’s vicinity when Arthur told his father about Morgana. To appease his guilt, Merlin tapped his ear piece to connect him to Gwaine. Having Gwaine on standby support really wasn’t such a bad idea. 

**

“Hello Arthur.”

Arthur recognized her voice immediately, though it sounded colder and more ominous coming over Merlin’s communication piece, causing Arthur’s jaw to clench in trepidation.

“Got something of yours here,” she said. “Tall and skinny. Fond of wearing t-shirts with ridiculous sayings on them. Could really use a more competent hair stylist...”

“I swear, Morgana, if you hurt Merlin...” Arthur threatened.

He heard Morgana tsk through the ear piece. “How touching.”

“What do you want?”

“It’s simple, really,” she told him. “You convince Uther to stop his War on Magic and I let you keep what is most precious to you.”

“You know damn well, Morgana, that Uther will never give up that fight.”

“Well for Merlin’s sake, you better hope that you can convince him,” Morgana said then broke the communication link between them.

_What the hell kind of game was Morgana playing at?_

**

Merlin took stock of his situation. From the darkness and cold dankness surrounding him, he was reasonably certain he was somewhere within the castle ruins on old Camelot Road. His hands were bound with rope and strung above his head. It wasn’t ordinary rope – he could easily tell. He could magick away ordinary rope and none of the spells he had tried thus far had worked. Morgana or one of the other witches must have enchanted it. He’d find a way to counter-spell it, but it would take some time and he didn’t want to get caught at it, if it could be helped.

He cursed himself for having been caught off-guard on his way home from Freya’s, enabling The Witches Three, as he now liked to call them, to stun him with magic before he had even realized what was happening. In fact, the more Merlin thought about it, the more embarrassing it was. And why the hell had they nabbed him and strung him up in this castle? he wondered. It didn’t make any sense. 

**

Arthur had known this conversation with his father would not go well.

“Morgana has Merlin,” Arthur told him, not bothering with a preamble. “She says she’ll return him unharmed if you agree to surrender your War on Magic.”

“I see,” Uther Pendragon said, training an eye on Arthur from behind his massive desk. “And you truly believe she’d hold up her end of the bargain if I were to do so?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. I figure this is her attempt to lure me out. For what purpose, though, I haven’t a clue.”

“She wants you to rescue the boy,” Uther Pendragon said, his features carefully schooled. “I would think her plan is to ambush you, to attack you – to get back at me.” He released a heavy sigh. “And for that reason, I expressly forbid you to make any attempt to rescue him, Arthur.”

These were not the words Arthur wanted to hear. “I won’t forsake Merlin!” he expressed. “He’s a member of my team. I can’t bear to lose him. Like--” His voice faltered. “Like we did Lancelot.”

Uther slammed a fist down on his desk, the first sign of any emotion. “Damn the Wiz Kid, Arthur! You must consider him collateral damage. I’ll find you another sorcery expert. Hell, if he was such an expert on magic, he wouldn’t have gotten himself in this predicament.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched. Merlin wasn’t a toy that his sister had taken, broken, and then could be easily replaced by his father. Merlin was... Merlin was a member of his team, his friend. The one whose smile brightened his day and made his heart beat faster.

“Just forget him, Arthur,” his father said, his usual calm returning, showing that he was once again in control of the situation. “It will be very damaging to the company for your team to suffer another loss,” he dismissed, “but with some skilful PR, we’ll get through it.”

“Of course,” Arthur said in response, though he wasn’t really listening. In his head, he was already formulating a plan.

As soon as he was a respectable distance from his father’s office, he tapped his ear piece, connecting him to the rest of his team. “Gear up,” he told them. “We’re going after Merlin.”

**

Merlin was still struggling to find the right spell that would release the bindings when Morgana appeared, carrying an oil lamp that filled the dark space with soft light.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Merlin,” she chided with a smirk. “You won’t be strung up there much longer. Promise.”

Merlin swallowed back a gulp. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, though he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know. 

Morgana cackled. “I’ve delivered a message to Arthur,” she told him. “If he convinces Uther to cease his War on Magic, you’ll be returned – no worse for wear.” She glanced down at the mangled and broken objects that lay at Merlin’s feet – his glasses and his computer pad. “Well, more or less,” she amended then conceded with mock apology, “It really wasn’t very nice of Nimueh to step on your glasses.”

“Uther Pendragon will never give the fight up against magic,” Merlin said. “You know that as well as I do, Morgana.” He tried not to wonder what that meant for him.

Morgana smiled cruelly. “No. He will not. But then Arthur will have no choice but to try and rescue you and when he does...” For a moment, she had a faraway look in her eyes but then refocused a steady gaze on Merlin. “I have every intention of destroying him. And then Uther will know exactly what it is like to lose something so dear to him.”

“It will only make him more bitter,” Merlin pointed out, a chill settling in his bones upon realizing her intentions, “and more hateful toward magic. You won’t get your revenge.”

“You know nothing about the sweetness of revenge, Merlin,” Morgana said. “Uther cast me away when he found out I had magic, disowned me! Said he couldn’t possibly have fathered a witch. Arthur is all he cares about, is all he has ever cared about. The perfect son, following in his father’s footsteps.”

“You know that’s not true,” Merlin argued. “Arthur is not your father. He would have helped you if you’d given him the chance.”

“You’re wrong, Merlin,” Morgana insisted. “Arthur’s very dedicated to his job and to PSA and to Uther. He would never have accepted me.”

Merlin knew that Morgana was wrong, though it would be difficult to convince her otherwise. The years had made her bitter and vengeful. Morgana was family and Arthur would never have turned his back on her. That was the kind of man Arthur was, the kind of man Merlin admired.

“Your plan won’t work,” Merlin tried to further reason. “Arthur won’t come for me. “I’m just the tech guy. Collateral damage. I don’t matter.”

Morgana let go a shrill laugh. “Are you really that oblivious, Merlin?” she wondered. “Arthur would stop the world for you. You must know that.” She moved in closer to him and traced a finger along his cheekbone, unkind amusement in her expression. “You are Arthur’s greatest weakness.”

His emotions whirled inside him, trying to absorb what Morgana had said. Surely, she was mistaken. Merlin was about to say just that when he heard voices from beyond, calling to Morgana. 

Morgana sneered at him. “Told you Arthur would come, Merlin. Now be a good boy and stay put. This shouldn’t take long.” She turned and glided away to the outer chamber, leaving Merlin alone in the darkness.

**

Arthur made his way into the inner chamber, leaving the team to fend off the six skilled witches the more powerful sorceresses had sent to waylay them. He figured Morgana would prefer it this way, that he was the one to go after Merlin. But he was soon outnumbered as the three women – Morgana, Morgause and Nimueh - came together in the dimly lit chamber to meet him. 

In an attempt to gain even a small advantage, he quickly pulled and threw daggers successively, hiding his frustration when each one was magically deflected, save for one that grazed the upper arm of the blonde sorceress. 

Morgause touched the spot with gentle fingers and shot him a fiery look.

“Still playing with knives, Arthur?” Morgana scorned. Her look was dark and cynical and Arthur wondered where his vivacious sister had gone.

“Where’s Merlin?”

Morgana laughed. “That’s not how the game is played, brother dear,” she said. 

“Let Merlin go,” Arthur said, intent on stipulating the rules of this game, “then we get this over with.” Arthur didn’t care what happened to him, he only wanted to be sure Merlin would be safe.

“Tempting,” Morgana said in response. She seemed to consider then said, “Do you know poor Merlin actually has no idea how you feel about him? How can someone so brilliant be so utterly obtuse?”

“Get on with it, Morgana,” Nimueh urged. “This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Destroy him and you will destroy your father.”

Morgause uttered a similar sentiment and Arthur could see Morgana preparing herself to do what she felt was necessary.

“What happened to you, Morgana?” Arthur wondered. The Morgana that stood before him was nothing like the Morgana he had known. 

“You know what happened to me,” Morgana returned, her voice softer, more vulnerable sounding and Arthur felt a spark of hope. “Uther turned his back on me, on everything that I am. I was sent away and had no one in the word until--” She cast a glance at Morgause and Nimueh.

“You had me,” Arthur said to her. Morgana’s green eyes flicked up to his face and Arthur saw raw emotion there, a look he remembered. “I wouldn’t have let you be alone.”

“Arthur...” Morgana began, her defences beginning to break down.

Nimueh, apparently, was not impressed. “Enough nonsense!” she shrieked. “If you can’t do this, Morgana, then I will!” With that, she conjured up her magic, ready to do business.

**

It was “ _Isen faestnunga onlucan me_ ” that finally did it. 

Merlin wasted no time untangling himself from the rope. He had to get to Arthur. 

**

They say that there are moments when time stands still. Arthur felt like this was one of them. The moment Nimueh cast the fireball and aimed it toward him, Arthur became almost frozen, acutely aware of the things around him – Morgana’s look of horror and regret, Merlin in his periphery rushing toward them, speaking strange words, desperation in his tone – did the sweet idiot think he could somehow save him? And Nimueh, her face lighting up with wicked delight at being the one to destroy him. In that very instant Arthur knew how Lancelot had come to die. It hadn’t been Sigan who had struck him down. It had been Nimueh.

Merlin spoke the words strongly (“ _Ic pe wipdrife!_ ”), the force of his spell to counter the fireball directed at Arthur by Nimueh powerful enough to knock all three of the witches back. Nimueh and Morguase had been the hardest hit but Merlin hit them with another blast just in case they had other ideas. Besides, it _hadn’t_ been very nice of Nimueh to step on his glasses nor Morgause to have wrecked his computer pad. 

“Merlin!” 

He turned his attention to Arthur who was staring at him and the scene around them wide-eyed and amazed. “Impressive,” Arthur complimented.

“Um, thanks?” was all Merlin could manage, adrenaline still on super-max. He really wanted to check Arthur for any damage that may have been inflicted that he hadn’t been able to deflect, just for his own peace of mind, but before he could get himself under control to do so, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Leon sailed into the room, looking like ninjas ready to do more battling.

“Who’s next?” Gwaine challenged loudly.

There was a flash and suddenly Nimueh and Morgause were gone. Morgana, who was lifting her head and coming to, was left behind.

Arthur quickly went to his sister, Merlin following close behind. He pulled Morgana into his arms, cradling her.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” Morgana sobbed. 

Arthur brushed his fingers against her cheek and soothed her quiet. And when Arthur smiled up at him like a man who had just discovered he had the very best things in his life, Merlin felt his heart swell. 

“Help me get Morgana out of here,” Arthur said and Merlin did without any hesitation. 

**

They were finally back at PSA, in Arthur’s office, after helping Morgana to a safe haven where she could begin the process of thinking and healing. Merlin had suggested Freya and, for once, Arthur offered no argument. In fact, he expressed that he thought Freya Lake would be very good for his sister.

“You should have told me, Merlin,” Arthur said.

Merlin knew they’d be getting around to that. “I wanted to,” he said. “But Gaius didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Well, given my father’s stance on magic-users,” Arthur conceded, “he was probably right.”

Merlin traced a pattern on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Lancelot knew.” 

“Oh?” 

Merlin thought he heard a note of hurt in Arthur’s voice and quickly explained, “I didn’t tell him. He just accidentally found out.”

Arthur seemed to ruminate for a moment then said, “Lancelot was a good man.”

“Yeah, he was.” Merlin wondered if Arthur would now blame him, for having magic and not having been able to save Lancelot.

“I do miss him,” Arthur said quietly. Then he surprised Merlin by moving in closer, close enough to press their foreheads together and stare intently into Merlin’s eyes. “But it would have _killed_ me, Merlin, if I had lost _you_.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He cupped his hand at the back of Arthur’s neck and pulled his mouth in to meet his. The kiss was slow and deep, full of the things neither of them had dared yet say to each other. It was utterly perfect.

“Mmm,” Arthur murmured, finally pulling away. “You taste like jelly donuts.”

Merlin laughed. “I didn’t think you liked jelly donuts,” he said.

Arthur shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “Well, I like the taste of them on your lips,” he teased.

“Good to know,” Merlin said, feeling ridiculously happy.

Arthur ruffled his hair playfully and tugged him toward the door. “So tell me, Merlin,” he drawled, “You’re the Shadow Sorcerer, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really. Let’s go back to your brownstone then,” Arthur suggested. “I bet Aithusa will tell me everything I want to know.”

“What? You’re going to interrogate my _cat_?”

“Not interrogate, Merlin. _Question_.”

Merlin snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

Arthur snagged an arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

There. He had a date with Merlin’s cat – finally. Okay, so maybe that meant he kind of had a date with Merlin too and that made Arthur very happy.


End file.
